


Stick In Your Throat

by princewardo



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, M/M, Multi, Sexual Content, Toxic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princewardo/pseuds/princewardo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica's bff from high school drops by BU, newly bankrupt and thirsty for his next step up the tech ladder. Facebook is the logical choice, but its creators need a little more convincing than most. Perhaps Erica could have warned them that Sean, once under your skin, cannot be so easily dug out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stick In Your Throat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [tsnrarepairfest](http://tsnrarepairfest.livejournal.com/) 2013\. Thank you so much to my suffering tweeps, my fellow suffering fest writers, our suffering organiser, and my fellow suffering tsn peers. May we all suffer on. 
> 
> Special thanks to my beta, [ologist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ologist), and my kind artists.
> 
> [Fanmix: Stick In Your Throat](http://8tracks.com/mushro0ms/stick-in-your-throat) by [widows](http://archiveofourown.org/users/widows)  
> [Fanart: Erica as Queen](http://laenix.livejournal.com/608.html) by [laenix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/laenix)  
> Additional Fanmix: [Damned If I Do](http://princewardo.livejournal.com/5301.html) by myself.

 

If there was one thing Erica was good at, it was knowing when she was getting played. Unfortunately, simply knowing when you're getting conned is absolutely no help when you're rather fond of the conman. Even worse when the conman knows that too.

"I feel kinda dirty giving you advice," Erica said absently. She scuffed her wedge heels along the concrete thoughtfully.

"Like, maybe Christina-Dirrty?" Sean said, shooting Erica a grin.

She punched him in the arm, "quit mocking, and start learning," she grumbled. "I'm not coaching you for the good of my health."

"Which one of us started a multimillion dollar company?" Sean said, playfully.

"Which one of us is bankrupt at twenty-three?" Erica retorted.

Sean put his hands up. "Low blow, Erica. Uncalled for. Not the mature thing to do."

She sniffed under her breath but let him bump against her shoulder as they walked on in silence.

She was still a little prickly about the whole phone call at the crack of dawn situation that had resulted in having to smuggle an overexcited drunkard into her dorm.

The coffee stop was a very, very good idea, if only because waiting for their double expressos afforded Erica about seven minutes of condensed threatening staring.  All those hours they'd spent trapped togetheer shelf stacking in Walmart back home had revealed to her Parker's true weakness. Awkward silences. Throw a little doubt his way, and he was a puppy dog offering up his belly for attention.

Sean nudged her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “So, you were feeling dirty?”

"I dunno, I'm just getting this sense of foreboding. It's like I'm the catalyst character in a movie who tells the villain how to kill a man without getting caught. I don't die or anything, but I'm guilty by association."

"Killing people isn't good business." Sean said, unperturbed.

“Well,” Erica said.

Sean rolled his eyes and handed her the big cup. “You're like my zen, Erica. Whenever I'm down, I call on you, my friend.”

“Isn't that a song?” Erica said, screwing her face up at the bitterness of her coffee.

“Yes,” Sean said, “but it's also the truth. Now hit me with some more positive affirmations.  I am digging this positive psychology shtick.”

“I want sugar sachets first,” Erica demanded, popping the lid.

Sean dug in his pockets and slapped two crumpled paper packets into her hand.  “Homeward,” he said, steering them down the path.

 **** -

“I may or may not have had an ulterior motive for dropping into Boston.” Sean admitted.

“Surprise, surprise,” said Erica. “Let's be honest; I've been waiting for the shoe to drop.”

Sean shrugged playfully. “You know me,” he said. “So you know that I don't do anything for mere pleasure, and I don't do anything for mere business.”

“So, am I the business or the pleasure this week?” Erica asked bluntly, reaching under her sweater to unhook the back of her bra. She'd had it on since five in the morning, this was her official limit. Who the fuck even cares about nipple protrusion anyway?  

“A bit of both,” Sean said thoughtfully, dodging the garment Erica tossed towards the laundry pile.

“It's no secret that I did just recently suffer a heartbreaking loss of-”

“Pride,” Erica said.

“-Money.” Sean finished, eyes narrowing in warning. “I felt like I needed your kindly bosom to rest upon. And your help, in other ways, too.”

“Makes sense,” Erica said, blasé.  “After all, I couldn't possibly be your 'only friend' in the world. Not when you have that mouth on you.”

Sean puffed up, “I do have a great number of very important, kind friends,” he agreed. “You are very special though, Erica.”

“Mmhm,” she said. “Because?”

“You are the dearest friend I have that lives in Boston,” he said, cagily.

“Go on.”

“With ties to Harvard.”

“And...?” she waved her hand impatiently.

“You're... a lovely young woman.”

“There we are.” Erica said, rolling her eyes as she flopped backward onto the bed. “I knew we'd get to this point eventually.”

“Well, sorry,” Sean said. “As soon as I need a History major, I'll make a beeline straight for you, but for now I have a Harvard University student business that I desperately need to get my fingers into.”

“Your entire life is a terrible metaphor,” Erica marvelled from her prone position between her pillows.

“Quit biting those pillows,” Sean said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Ughh,” Erica sighed. She sat up, and grabbed her netbook from the desk. “Okay, show me the target.”

“It's called TheFacebook,” Sean said, perking up. “Type it in, dot com, that's right.”

“They should really drop the 'the',” Erica mused.

It just went to show how much of a bother keeping Sean was that it took Erica literally three days to realise that Mark Zuckerberg, Harvard student & TheFacebook creator was the same guy as Mark Zuckerberg, Harvard student and & FaceMash-creating misogynist douchebag.  

Erica's first reaction upon realisation was an intense urge to vomit, followed by the thought that this would be a great opportunity to kick someone in the balls, no questions asked.

“I'll definitely help you set up a meeting with Zuckerberg,” she announced to Sean over some decidedly too-milky scrambled eggs in the cafeteria.

“That was kind of the plan,” Sean said, stirring his eggs agreeably around the plate. He dropped a triangle of toast into the middle of the mess and watch it soak for a moment or two before spearing it. “Eat it like this, it's like underfried french toast,” he said, chewing carefully. “Are these organic eggs?”

“Doubtful.” Erica said. “Alice has a friend who knows a friend of Zuckerberg's.”

“That sounds just unlikely enough to be my meal ticket,” Sean said, tapping his fork on his plate in approval.

“If you believe the gossip, it's actually a boyfriend,” Erica went on, scrolling through her texts. “I doubt it, though.”

“Set it up,” Sean said. “Also, pass me the salt, if you please.”

-

Alice is pretty much the perfect roommate. When she's around, she's all cynical sweetness and a steady supply of bulk bagged dried cranberries from who-knows-where, and the rest of the time she's bunking at her best friend Christy's Harvard dorm. Apparently, the cafeteria food over there is fantastic if you're up early enough.

She doesn't have a problem with Sean sleeping on their floor, or using her desk, or hogging the mirror in their bathroom, as long as he don't sleep in her bedsheets.  Erica thinks that's pretty generous of her.

Alice is also a hell of a lot of fun on a night out, if only because she knows Christy, and Christy knows everyone. Most intimately, she knows trouble.  

“You're so cute,” Christy had to practically scream over the apparently deaf DJ that tonight's Kappa Kappa Gamma-Women In Business joint event had had the misfortune to contract. “Why don't I ever see you out at events?”

Erica pointed at her knit cap, and then at her black beat up uggs. “I don't get out much,” she screamed back.

“But you're so smart,” Christy complained, “you should be out with us, every night!” She waved at a waitress, and traded her empty beer for a sealed wine cooler, waiting patiently as the girl opened the cap for her.

Erica shook her head as the waitress came around to her, and she immediately skipped to Alice who apparently had a very specific concoction in mind, judging from the money she slipped into the waitress's hands.

“What was it you were majoring in?” she asked Christy, “I feel like you've told me, but I've forgotten.”

Christy laughed, head back, black curls bouncing. “I don't blame you,” she said, “I don't know anymore either. Alice, what do I qualify for now?”

“Huh?” Alice had just had her drink delivered, coaster perched securely atop it. She took the straw from the waitress with thanks. “What do you want? I'm drinking here,” she yelled, annoyed.

“What do I major in?” Christy repeated.

Alice rolled her eyes. “Business? Accounting? Marketing? Management? Collecting losers and hoping they turn into money?”

“I call it procurement,” Christy said.

“That's illegal,” Alice pointed out. “Worse, it's inaccurate.”

“Explain,” Erica said, a smile beginning to creep across her lips.

Christy shrugged, “There are a lot of smart people in Cambridge,” she said. “Some of them are going to go far after college, some of them are going to go home. The more contacts you have, the more leads you have to potential success stories. All the better to occasionally...”, she waved her bottle in a rough figure eight, “...put the right people together, you know? Facilitate.”

“Ride people's coattails,” Alice put it dryly.

“No, no, I totally get it.” Erica said. “It's a thing.”

“It's a thing,” Christy grinned. “What do you major in?”

“History,” Erica said briefly, “But it's funny you should bring up Business....”

-

"We'll take them out to dinner," Sean said, leaning back heavily in Alice's chair, "somewhere top notch. The flash needs to really dazzle them. They'll love it. Fish on a crystal hook."

Erica nodded slowly, "I know someone who can recommend a place."

She shot Christy a text and got a near instantaneous reply. Bless hyper-connected, ultra-prepped sorority girls.

She flashed Sean the screen briefly, and he nodded.

Sean stretched and got up to put on his hand tooled leather shoes. "These kids are in for a treat," he said, tugging the laces even. "When I got my first Napster meeting..." he trailed off and leaned against the doorframe to place the call.

Erica laid back and shut her eyes. She had a take home test due the next morning, but it was nap time, and she had the whole night ahead of her. She didn't open her eyes when Sean climbed in alongside her.

"Shoes," she said, warning.

He snorted and she felt him rearrange himself until his feet were hanging off the edge of the mattress. "It's so damn cold here, Erica," he complained, wriggling close.

"I know," she said. "you'll get used to it."

-

“Right,” Sean said folding his collar down over his tie. “We're ready. Are you ready, Erica?” He peeled the duvet back. “You're going to wrinkle your dress.”

“I don't care,” Erica said, sitting up. She fished her high heeled boots out from under the bed with one foot, and pushed her feet into them. “Coat,” she said, pointing at her chair.

Sean draped it around her.

“Bag.”

Sean dropped it into her lap.

“Hat.”

“Are you serious?”

She groaned and got up to fetch it herself and put it on in front of Alice's mirror. “Yes, I'm serious, it's fucking freezing outside.”

“Hats aren't cool,” Sean tried to explain. “Hats aren't sexy.”

“It's a beret, not a fricking sombrero,” she said. “Alice, do you think the hat is a problem?”

Alice turned a page in her book. “Not getting involved.”

“I told you hats aren't sexy,” Sean said.

Alice breathed out slowly through her nose. “It is really cold outside,” she said, pointedly looking at Erica, not Sean. “And Erica is incapable of not being sexy when she wants to be. The clothing is irrelevant.”

“Thank you.” Erica said, gratified.

“I hang out with Christy way too much.” Alice mumbled.

“Speaking of Christy, we're supposed to meet her and the boys in five minutes.” Sean said, tapping his Rolex.

“See you later,” Erica said to Alice. “Hopefully, it won't stretch on long.”

“Thanks for the iron,” Sean said briefly, pushing Erica out the door.

“Ugh, scum,” was all Erica heard in answer as she shut the suite door.

The dinner was fine. Great, even. Christy was a perfect social lubricant as always, Mark seemed enthralled by the shop talk, Eduardo (a friend of Mark's who was apparently in charge of the business end of operations) was professional, if a little scowly, and Erica didn't kick anyone in the balls.

As promised, they didn't spin it out too late, and Erica was satisfied with not having to do much beyond sitting beside Sean, intercepting drinks before they could get to his head. When her phone buzzed with a text from Alice, she looked up and accidentally locked eyes with an inquisitive Zuckerberg. She raised her brows at him and he flicked his eyes back to Sean quickly, nodding with agreement at his last industry name drop.

They wound things up cordially, Christy offering to share her cab back with the other Harvard undergrads.

“Wait-” Eduardo said, stumbling a little as he turned, “Erica, did you want to share?” He smiled apologetically, one foot in the back of the car.

“I go to BU,” Erica said. “Thanks, though.”

“That makes sense.” Mark said.

Christy let out an impatient cough from the interior of the cab.

“What do you mean by that?” Erica said, carefully.

Eduardo just about picked Mark up by the collar of his zip-up, and pushed him into the cab.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “He's drunk. Um. Thank you for a good night. We'll see you around?”

Sean waved them off, “We'll be in touch.”

-

“That kid is trouble,” Erica said, frowning as they kicked their way through the snow blocking the diner's swing door entrance.

“Which one?” Sean yawned. “I want carbs, order me carbs.”

Erica rolled her eyes and sat in the nearest booth, pushing the menu his way.

“Zuckerberg, the little creep,” she said, “don't tell me you didn't hear that little neg he tried to slide me outside the restaurant last night.”

“I guess we are talking about Harvard snobs.” Sean said, shrugging.

“Yup.”

“I'm really proud of you for not kicking him in the balls.”

“Me too,” Erica sighed.

“Zuckerberg isn't the issue," she said eventually, chewing through a handful of wedges.

Sean gave her a look, and hailed a waiter for more sour cream. "He's on board." Sean agreed, pulling the basket to his side of the booth.

"Saverin isn't keen," she said, "actually, he kinda looked like he hated you."

"Impossible," Sean grinned, putting his chin in his hands, " just look at this face."

Erica rolled her eyes and used half a potato to decimate the freshened dip.

"But, seriously, don't worry about Eduardo," Sean said. "I've been working on him." He pulled out his cellphone, thumbing the menu into the text folder.

"....Are you sexting him?" Erica asked, incredulous.

"I asked Christy, but she said it wasn't her department," Sean shrugged. "He's not exactly hard on the eyes."

Erica chewed her lip, "Guess I should probably have guessed he was your type."

Sean cocked his head. "You think I go for tall and dark?"

"More like young and rich."

Sean barely suppressed a snort, "That's not my only criteria," he said, defensively. "You know I'm all about meritocracy."

"He seems pretty snotty," Erica said.

"So do you." Sean smiled, "I guess I like the snotty ones most of all, if we're going to judge me by my track record."

Erica rolled her eyes at him. "Please keep me updated on this unlikely romance."

"I will," Sean promised, crossing his heart with a fry.

Erica raised her eyebrows over her coffee mug, "I know the door guy at the Scholar if you improbably manage to get to the point where you need to wine and dine him," she went on facetiously.

Sean narrowed his eyes."I will," he said.

"Mm hmm," Erica said, "good luck with that."

-

Sean disappeared for exactly a week after the meeting, and reappeared in time to interrupt Erica's afternoon snack of mediocre-to-adequate canned spaghetti.

“Noodles!” he said gleefully as he started eating out of Erica's bowl. She let it happen. Erica was all about the meatballs.

“You're welcome, I guess.” Erica said when they'd cleaned the plate.

“Good, because I need you to go on a date with Mark Zuckerberg.” Sean said, apologetically. He held out a paper cup of lukewarm coffee he'd clearly almost forgotten he'd brought.

“Nope.” Erica said. “Nope, no, not happening, get out of my dorm, fuck you.”

“Please, Erica,” Sean wheedled. “Please, it's the only way I could get Eduardo to – well, I promised Mark, okay?”

“You promised Mark that you'd get him some pussy?” Erica paraphrased sarcastically. “Shit, Sean, lately I'm beginning to think I should expect this kind of crap from you. It's not a good thing.”

“It's just a date,” Sean said. “I swear. He's not that much of a gross frat guy, I _swear_. It's like a blind date.” 

“Not when I know who he is,” Erica pointed out. “What the hell kind of deal are you trying to do here?”

Sean shrugged uncomfortably, and sipped out of the coffee cup that Erica still hadn't accepted.

“I asked him to dinner for Friday, and he got all frowny and said Mark would be lonely without him.”  

“He didn't say that,” Erica countered, clattering her bowl onto the desk.

“I paraphrase,” Sean agreed, “so I told him I'd set you guys up for the evening, seeing as you never eat with anyone either.”

Erica glared at him.

“Come on, you only hate him because he's so much like you, admit it. You don't have to actually date him. Just chat. Communicate via your common language of glaring. Give him some hope that he'll find a girlfriend in Cali. Tell him about the cute tech girls at the Napster parties.”

“Do you really think you can convince people to quit college for sex and nerd parties?” Erica asked, curiously.

“I'd stake my millions on it,” Sean said.

“Mmm hm.” Erica said.

“You know what I mean,” Sean said.

“I do,” Erica said. “Okay, I'll go, but I reserve the right to verbally eviscerate him.”

“I positively encourage it,” Sean said. “It would probably send productivity through the roof, and you know how I love that.”

Erica stood up and pulled her leg up behind her knee, holding it for a few seconds before switching legs.

“...What are you doing?”

“Strengthening my legs so I can optimise my ball kicking.”

Sean cracked up, rolling backwards on the bed. “Oh – okay,” he snorted, “well, I guess I better start my dick exercises.”

“Get out,” Erica commanded, turning away to hide her grin.

-

The date was extremely successful on many levels. Most especially the part where Zuckerberg stuffed his foot into his mouth, as expected, and the part when Erica seized the chance to rip him apart, and then the part when she watched him run home, tail between his legs.

She was still debating whether to mention the telling Saverin name drop to Sean several hours later. She could only assume his “date” had taken a slightly different route to her own.  Luckily Alice was more than willing to share her red vines and neglect her Communications paper in favour of laughing hysterically at Erica's impressions of Zuckerberg's priceless one liners.

It was almost four o'clock in the morning when Sean let himself in, hair lightly dusted with snow.

“Nice work,” he said, pointing at Erica. “Eduardo's cell was ringing off the hook for a while there. I've heard all about your ball busting through some amazingly vitriolic text messages.”

“Thank you,” Erica said, accepting the compliment. “I do try, you know.”

“Clearly,” Sean said fondly. “You're lucky I was keeping Eduardo occupied or there'd probably be some crazy Facemash shit going on again tonight.”

Erica rolled her eyes. “As if I care what losers like him say about me on the internet.”

“Good girl,” Sean said, clapping her on the back. “So, enough about you, ask me about my date!”

“Nah, I think we're good.” Alice said, twiddling a red vine as she scrolled onward.

“Long story short,” Sean said, ignoring her as he tossed his wallet onto Erica's bed, “I wined him, I dined him, he accidentally punched me when I got down to tie his shoe-”

“Who the fuck ties other people's shoes?” Alice interrupted.

“Who the fuck are you?” Sean retorted, pointing vindictively at her as he sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Not a creep,” Alice said, sticking out her tongue. “And I live here, F-Y-I.”

Sean gave her the stink eye as he pulled his shoes off, and then gave up and carried on with his monologue.

“So – I tied his shoe, he accidentally hit me, then he offered to kiss it better,” Sean paused to elbow Erica until she would look up long enough to see his leer. “Then one thing led to another, and gentlemen never kiss and tell, but wow, he is gonna be sore this morning.”

“B-R-B, puking.” Alice said. She picked up her laptop, and shuffled out in her slippers.

 **** -

Unfortunately, Erica was the next victim of Sean's unstoppable train of TMI.  

She'd taken shelter at Christy's single with Alice after a particularly disappointing fraternity mixer. Christy's room had turned out to have more alcohol in it than every room at the mixer combined, which wasn't surprising, but had meant that the other girls they'd brought back had gotten to the sleepy stage of drunk very quickly. 

Sean's 1 am barrage of texts came as a welcome excuse to meander out and vaguely homeward.

****

 

> To: Erica ALBRIGHT
> 
> From: Sean P
> 
> meet me at eliot
> 
> house in 10min
> 
> room E24
> 
> ****
> 
> To: Erica ALBRIGHT
> 
> From: Sean P
> 
> finishng up
> 
> business
> 
> arrangements re.
> 
> vetting some palo
> 
> alto angels w/ ES
> 
> ****
> 
> To: Erica ALBRIGHT
> 
> From: Sean P
> 
> I cn never expln to
> 
> cabbies where ur
> 
> dorm is
> 
> ****
> 
> To: Sean P
> 
> From: Erica ALBRIGHT
> 
> ok ok coming

 

Erica slipped into Eliot in the wake of a couple of staggering guys who hooted and cheered the entire way up the stairs and down the corridor, leading her right past Eduardo's door.

She was about to knock when -

“Please,” she heard Eduardo say through the door. “Don't – don't – that's so good, Sean.”

“Oh my god, why.” Erica muttered to herself, tempted to bang her head against the door. 

“Hey,” she heard Sean say, soothing, “it's okay, just stay right there. Good boy.”

The mattress started squeaking.

“So tight,” Sean said. He grunted a couple of times, the springs ringing louder than before. “Such a perfect tight ass. Can't wait to take you home to Cali, fuck you by the pool.”

Erica rolled her eyes.

Eduardo let out a long whimper, and the squeaking upgraded to a fast paced rattle of springs that actually echoed down the hall.

“Fuck,” Sean said, a couple of minutes later. He sounded pretty satisfied. “You're so good at that.”

There were the rustling and jingling sounds of clothes and keys, followed by slow footsteps.  Erica slid along the wall a little, out of sight of the opening door.

“Do you really have a place in California?” Erica heard Eduardo say sleepily.

“Yeah, totally,” Sean said, leaning against the doorframe. He was batting at his hair distractedly, but he spotted Erica and managed not to react with more than a small smile of greeting. “I really want you out there, Eduardo.  I know Mark can be a little hesitant, but I think it will be so good, you and me out there, making deals with Palo Alto.”

“Yeah,” Eduardo said, soft. “Me too.”

Sean turned on his winning smile. “I'll see you next month then, Eduardo Saverin.”

He shut the door gently, and grinned at Erica. She raised an eyebrow and followed him down the stairs and outside before speaking.

“Wow,” she said, first off.

Sean shrugged, tugging at his cuffs. “What can I say, one thing led to another.”

“A quick word about business arrangements led to pounding his ass ‘til he passed out?” Erica said, incredulous.

Sean smiled. “Unplanned but not unappreciated. That kid really gets into kissing.”

“Business arrangements,” Erica said again, sceptical. “You know that all that kid heard when you said 'I want you out there' was that you want him, right?”

“Yeah.” Sean said, blasé. “It's true, though. I'd like to keep him around.”

“You really never change, you know.” Erica said, rubbing her face. “Let's get back to BU before the RA locks down.”

“I'll flag down a cab,” Sean said, stepping off the curb.

-

“Shower. Now,” Erica said. as soon as they got back. Alice groaned at them momentarily and rolled over until Sean disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. Erica flipped off the light.

“Shhh,” she said to Alice. “He's going tomorrow.”

“Finally,” Alice moaned.

“Yeah, yeah.” Erica murmured. “You'll miss him.”

Alice sniffed into her pillows, half asleep again, “I better get some sweet party invites.”

“You're on the list,” Erica assured her, petting her blankets as she walked past. “Don't worry about that.”

Sean took his time, and came out of the bathroom in sweats and a cloud of steam.  His eyes were drooping with tiredness, and there were water droplets trapped in the beginnings of scruffy stubble.

“Good as new,” he said, crawling into the blankets Erica had dropped onto the floor for him.

“You could do with a long sleep and a day at the spa,” Erica told him with brutal honesty.

“Can't afford that til we start buttering up Palo Alto,” he yawned, burrowing down. “Check back next month, when I'll be lounging poolside, chatting up some friendly investor friends of mine.”

“I wonder - do you think Eduardo would even be interested in you if you were some poor, small town kid without any connections?” Erica mused, ruffling Sean's hair as she stepped over him on the way to the bathroom.  

When she came out in her warm blue robe twenty minutes later, the overhead light was out. Sean was in his makeshift blanket nest on the floor, eyes closed, apparently asleep. Erica stepped over him again and sat on the edge of her bed, combing detangler through her hair and staring at the back of Sean's head.

His hair was getting a little too long. It had started curling around his ears again, like it used to when she was still in high school. It was weird to think that they wouldn't even have known one another if it hadn't been for that shitty stacking job.

She spread a hand towel over her pillow, and lay down. It was too late for the hairdryer. She leaned over and took the spare blanket off the end of Sean's bed, and laid it over her duvet. She didn't want to take any risks with the cold when it came to Boston winters.

-

Sean got on his plane the next day, after an extended McBreakfast at the airport.

“Call me,” he yelled, jogging backwards as he passed into the checkpoint area, “Your flights are in your inbox, I'll see you when you break.”

Erica waved and caught the T back.  When she got home she flipped her laptop screen open and verified the presence of the tickets. Whoever's credit card had paid for them had at least considered her to be worth business class. That was a good sign.

She shot off a quick email:

****

 

> Hey stud,
> 
> ****
> 
> Hope the flight was bearable. I know how flying upsets your delicate complexion. Here's to hoping you're already safely ensconced in a bottle of liquor.
> 
> ****
> 
> Book me a nice suite for the break. Don't forget to invite Alice and Christy, or it'll bite you in the ass one day.  Remember to call Saverin before he forgets all about you.
> 
> ****
> 
> Erica

****

Then she packed up her bag and headed back to class for the first time in a fortnight. There were finals in less than two weeks, and it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

 **** -

Sean didn't email her back for a week, and didn't call or text back for two. This wasn't unusual, but it was – jarring after such a long exposure. As always.

The only thing that made her feel a little better was the one lonely little text she received at the respectable time of 11.39 on a Tuesday morning.

****

> Hi Erica.  Sorry to
> 
> bother you. I was
> 
> wondering whether
> 
> you had heard from
> 
> Sean at all. He hasn't
> 
> texted me back for a
> 
> couple of days, and
> 
> I hope he's alright.
> 
> Regards, E Saverin

****

She could only stare at it and smile.  She answered it the next evening, when she was feeling particularly fed up with exams.

****

> Hi Eduardo. Sean's
> 
> a very busy man. I
> 
> wouldn't worry, he's
> 
> probably just wrapped
> 
> up in some new
> 
> paramour or business.
> 
> Don't take it
> 
> personally or anything.
> 
> E.A.

****

She reread her answer a couple of times over the week, just to feel the reminder of the smirk on her face.

Eduardo didn't text back.

-

Erica caught the flight to San Jose and took a cab out to the Palo Alto Four Seasons Hotel Sean had had a lackey book her into. She checked in, and took a well appreciated nap until her cellphone woke her up.

It was Sean, of course. Erica smiled at it, and hit the green button. “Hey.”

“Good evening, Ms. Albright,” Sean said, “are you ready to party?”

“Have I ever answered that question with a yes?” Erica replied wryly.

“Oh, that's right, you like to 'accidentally' end up partying, don't you.” Sean laughed. “If you meet me in the lobby in twenty minutes I'll take you to the office where we never, ever party, I swear.”

“You have an office?”

“It's more like a friend's promise, a free intern, and a chair, but it's a nice place,” Sean admitted.

“Okay, see you in ten,” Erica said, ending the call.

Sean picked her up as she stepped out into the lobby and pretended to heft her over his shoulder as she yelled and the concierge staff stared pointedly.

“Okay, okay, they look sufficiently disapproving.” Sean laughed, putting her down and waving at the staff as they strode out to the taxi rank.

 **** -

“What does this place do?” Erica asked, eying the colourful signs that pointed them all the way to Sean's 'office' space.

Sean shrugged. “Customer service, something to do with online shopping. Auctions. Fun stuff,  no idea how it works.”

“Huh,” Erica said, smiling at a nearby phone worker, who looked like she was on her last scrap of patience. The woman rolled her eyes, pointing at her headset, but returned the expression wanly.

“You know, I've never shopped online,” she told Sean.

“Well, you're in the right place to start,” he said, distractedly. A boy who looked young enough that he could be in high school was handing him manila folders by the handful.

Erica grabbed a couple and helped them sort them into a couple of even stacks on the desk.

“You look way too busy to entertain visitors,” she said, “I don't know how you have the time to party with me, let alone keep a boyfriend.”

“About Wardo,” Sean said, straightening up the edges.

“Did he break up with you?” Erica asked sympathetically.

“No, it's not – we're not dating, you know how it is.”

“Yeah.” Erica nodded.

“He calls a lot,” Sean hesitated, leaning back in his chair, “for – no reason? It's kind of pointless. I've been trying to think of what it is he's hinting at, but the conversation is pretty random.”

“He's probably just checking up on you,” Erica said. “He is the business end of Zuckerberg's company, right?”

“Yeah, you're totally right.” Sean frowned. “He does call at unpredictable times. Probably trying to gauge whether I'm taking business calls. Checking out whether they're getting good value for money.”

Erica hijacked someone else's desk chair, and spun gently over. “They're not really getting great value for money, though, are they?”

Sean cocked his head.

“You're here, all alone in the office, making all the arrangements, pulling in all the connections, and Eduardo's the business end? He hasn't even given you his rich dad's phone number.” Erica spun three hundred and sixty degrees as slowly as possible.

“I don't want to get between you or anything, but Eduardo has made you put in a hell of a lot of effort for a guy who isn't really part of the big picture.”

Sean put his hand out, and halted her spinning. “Erica,” he said. “I love your honesty.”

Erica smiled sadly, and patted his cheek. “Don't let it bring you down.”

Sean's cell started ringing.  Sean made a face, and answered via speakerphone.

“Hey, Eduardo,” he said, glancing at Erica. “How was the flight? Did you all arrive okay?”

“Sean, is this – is this your house in California?”  

“No, no, Wardo, I rented that place for you and the boys,” Sean said, enthusiastically. “Mark loved it when I showed him online.”

“There's a zip line,” Eduardo said. He sounded confused. “Into... into the pool.”

“Yeah, I thought you guys would dig that,” Sean said, flicking through a couple of folders. He marked them with large (1) or (2)s, and beckoned a young man in a smart looking Burberry shorts suit over to take them.

“There's no office,” Eduardo said, “And – there's not enough bedrooms for everyone-”

Mark's voice filtered through in the background, “It's fine, Wardo, you can bunk with me. It's fine.”

Erica raised an eyebrow.

Sean's lips went tight.

“There's a ton of rooms, Wardo, just get the interns to work in shifts. There should be enough for you and Mark to have your own rooms. The interns can take turns sleeping when they're not coding,” he explained slowly.

The line went quiet for a second. “Okay.” Eduardo said, in a small voice. “Will I see you tonight?”

“No, I'm taking Erica out to see the sights.” Sean said. “I'll see you tomorrow when I check out the intern setup.”

“Okay,” Eduardo said again. “Okay, well, just checking up. I'll call you later when you're not busy.”

Sean glanced at Erica, and shifted in his seat, visibly agitated. “Is there something else wrong?”

“No, everything's fine. I – um.” Eduardo stammered for a second, voice wavering as if it were balanced on the edge of a precipice.

Erica could almost feel his frustration through the sound waves.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Sean repeated.

“Yes.” Eduardo said.

Sean hit the end call button.

“That was probably the awkwardest phone conversation I've ever heard.” Erica said to the intern. He ducked his head and darted away.

Sean tossed his phone from hand to hand. “I don't get it,” he said.

“Hey,” Erica said, putting her hands up, “I don't wanna be the one to say it, but I did warn you.”

“I know,” Sean said. He slapped the phone onto the desk and switched back to sorting folders.

“You want to check out the house tomorrow?” he said. It sounded like an offer, but Erica could sense the quiet plea in it. Sean was a big chicken underneath it all.

“No, I think I'll catch up on my sleep by the pool, actually,” she said, decisively.

“Sounds good.” Sean said.  “Come to mine in the evening then. We're having a little pizza party before I head out of town for a bit.”

“You're jetting off?” Erica said. “Thought you were keen to show me the sights?”

“Christy Lee and your friend Alice will be here soon enough.” Sean shrugged. “I don't know how, but I would guess that Christy knows this city better than I know the inside of a minibar.”

Erica hmmfed in acquiescence. “You better deal with the Eduardo thing before you disappear,” she warned him. “I don't want to wake up to a voice mail inbox full of accusations and teary begging.”

“I'll be back in time for the second round of the office warming party.” Sean promised.

“The what?” Erica said.

“Didn't I mention the 500 K angel investment?” Sean said, straight-faced.

“Shut up.” Erica said.

“Still processing, of course. Won't be officially ours for a couple of weeks.”

“Have you told them?” she said, voice low.

“Of course not,” Sean said, dismissively, “if I tell them now, I'll miss out on pressuring a solid week worth of work a night out of them with the shift system.”

“Trapped rats can chew through anything,” Erica agreed. “Christy would be proud.”

They fist bumped.

-

Erica turned up to Sean's pizza extravaganza pretty late.  So late that a concierge had to walk her up to ensure she wasn't gate-crashing.

To be completely frank, Erica didn't particularly fancy partying, drinking, or breaking even pizza bread with Zuckerberg anytime soon, so the later the better.

Eduardo opened the door. “Erica!” he said, congenial as ever. The concierge took Erica's tip and left.

“Erica!” Sean yelled from across the room, where he was balanced on the sofa playing upside down Spyro. It clearly wasn't a strategy move, judging by the way his avatar was repeatedly headbutting a cliffside despite his desperate button mashing.

“Pizza, there; drinks, there; bathroom, there,” he said, seemingly waving the controller in the same general direction.

“Thanks,” Erica said sarcastically.

Eduardo tapped her gently on the arm. “What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked.

“Same as Sean,” she said, meanly, and watched him fumble the napkins for a while until she relented and pointed at the Hawaiian.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the slice. “Could you grab me a drink, sweetie? Anything that's not beer.”

He nodded, and she pushed her way through a gaggle of interns to collapse into the sofa next to Sean.

“Good night so far?” she asked pointedly.

Sean leaned on one elbow awkwardly in order to jab her with the other. “Don't breathe a word,” he said.

Erica snorted and bit onto the pizza.

Eduardo reappeared. “Hey, sorry, I was getting Mark his beer,” he said apologetically gesturing to the arm chair behind him, where the screen of a laptop was all but obliterating any view of Zuckerberg's skinny frame.

“Is lemon okay?” he said, handing it to her.

“It's cool, thanks,” Erica assured him, budging over a little so that she could sit slotted between Sean and Eduardo. “Are you having fun?” She asked Eduardo, setting her pizza on her knee as she  opened the drink.

“Yeah.” Eduardo said, obviously lying.

“I guess you're pretty busy, always running around after Mark, huh?” Erica said, tilting her head to the side.

Eduardo chewed his lip a little. “I like to help out where I can,” he said, wary.

“You're a good friend, Eduardo, you look after him really well,” Erica went on, smiling as she felt Sean stiffen up beside her.

He wriggled into a normal sitting position, and handed the playstation controller over to the nearest intern.

“I'm surprised you get any time at all to do finance stuff. That's in your title, isn't it?”

Eduardo began to look increasingly mulish as she went on.

“Yes,” he said, to answer her previous question.  

Erica smiled widely at him.

“It's too bad you won't be staying out here in Cali,” she said, “you'll hardly ever get to see Sean anymore.”

“Yeah, he's a pretty hard guy to get hold of on the phone,” Eduardo said, through gritted teeth.

“Oh? When I call he picks up almost every time,” Erica lied.

Eduardo seemed to droop a little beside her, almost as if he were deflating.

Having apparently learnt his lesson, Eduardo stopped replying.

“Peace offering.” Zuckerberg said, breaking the silence. He handed her an open bottle of coke.

Erica looked at it, mouth twisting.

“Could you grab me a sealed one?” she said to Eduardo, passing him the bottle.

She flicked her eyes back to Sean as she felt Eduardo stand up. “You just can't be too sure, especially when it comes to some guys,” she said.

Zuckerberg spluttered, and sat down with a bounce. “As if I'd--”

Sean shrugged. “She has a point, man,” he said to Zuckerberg. “You don't exactly have a sparkling track record when it comes to your public opinion of women, do you?”

Zuckerberg bristled visibly, and turned back to his laptop silently.

Eduardo stood up. “Sean, you – you can't talk like that to Mark, okay?” he said, resting his hand on Zuckerberg's shoulder. “We're all friends here. He made a mistake.”

“You're business, actually,” Sean said, resting a hand on Erica's back, “Erica's my friend.”

Eduardo opened and closed his mouth, fists balling up at his sides.

“She's completely right.” Mark interjected, unexpectedly. “I did make a mistake. I should have known better. There's no argument here.”

A blond guy leaned over the back of the couch and handed Erica a sealed soda, which she thanked him for.  She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Everyone can learn,” she said placatingly, cracking open the seal.

“It's getting late,” Zuckerberg said shortly. “We have to get back and cover the night shift,” he said, picking up his laptop. “Let's go, Wardo.”

“I've got an early flight too,” Sean said, pushing all the pizza boxes into a precarious pile. He started picking personal detritus out of the greasy napkin and bottle carnage.

The interns started filing out, somebody in the hallway yelling something about taxivans.

“I'll meet you down there,” Zuckerberg said after a few beats of awkward silence, apparently realising that Eduardo intended to have a final word. He nodded stiffly at Erica as he shut the door behind him.

Sean waved him out, and kept piling up his socks and power cords, as if Eduardo wasn't still standing in the middle of the room with wet eyes and wringing hands.

“I think I'm going to go,” Erica said, draining her bottle. “Call me, Parker.”

“Text me, Albright,” he called to her over Eduardo's bowed head.

She nodded, and let herself out.

“Look, I don't know exactly what it is that you want from me, but I think we need to cool it,” she heard Sean say just before the door clicked shut.

Her blood ran a little colder all the way back to her hotel. Not even the jacuzzi bath could warm her enough.

-

Sean texted sporadically over the next week, though most of Erica's time was occupied with being dragged in and out of San Francisco proper at the shopping whims of Christy and Alice.  The main gist of the texts was basically that he'd finally broken up with Eduardo. The rest of it was all “I'm partying!”, “I'm drunk!”, “Wish you were here!”, “I'm drunk...”, and “...I'm drunk...Erica. I wish you were here...” Altogether, a rather satisfying outcome.

Erica had to buy a new coat in San Francisco. She'd misjudged how cold it was going to be.  Christy said she must be a reptile, she was always so cold. Erica had to concur. She was probably correct.

Christy also had some kind of exclusive radar for detecting networking opportunities and up-and-comer parties, and Erica only barely managed to dodge attending most of them, until Sean started text-bullying her into attending the official Facebook HQ party.  How the offices had been prepared so speedily was apparently being hailed as some kind of Palo Alto miracle by Zuckerberg and the gang.

Erica knew a little better; Sean's angel friend was into hedging his bets; FB HQ was the re-postered corporate end of yet another online shopping venture gone bust. Misplaced joy aside, Erica turned up to the celebrations late and grudgingly, but appropriately attired.

The place was lit up like a Christmas tree factory, and its white stark walls were fittingly creepy by night. There were just enough attendees not to seem completely weird, though everything would probably have looked a lot more rowdy and welcoming had Sean been the host.  When Erica walked through the double doors, she couldn't see anyone she'd ever spoken more than two words to in her life.  She rolled her eyes and made busywork out of removing and folding her jacket over a nearby desk.

It was just her luck that Eduardo was crouched behind this particular desk, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were red from crying, and his sleeves looked pretty gross.

She debated backing away slowly for a moment, but after a trio of young guys in cargo shorts and flip-flops walked in, loudly honking like geese, she rashly decided it would be at least more entertaining to go with the devil she knew.

“Hey,” she said, sliding down the slick plastic wall to sit with him. “You okay?”

Eduardo looked up briefly and snorted. “Yeah. What are you doing here, beyond mocking me?”

“I get an automatic invite to everything,” she shrugged.

“That's crazy,” Eduardo said, wiping his nose on his cuff again. “You're both crazy, horrible people.”

Erica guessed he was probably referring to Sean and herself.

She suppressed her smile. “You know...I don't want to say it, etcetera,” she said, “but...”.

“You told me so,” Eduardo finished the phrase, bitterly. “I should have listened to Mark. He had my back, but I thought I knew better than everyone.” He glanced at Erica again, “I should have listened to you.”

“Careful, that sounds like a thank you.” Erica said. “It was just one text.”

“It's not. You're a bitch.” Eduardo said. “You're mean, but you know another mean girl when you see one.”

“I'm going to take that as a backhanded compliment,” Erica said, thoughtfully.

Eduardo nodded. “Don't think I didn't notice you trying to break us up all the time,” he added. “I guess you should get a thanks for that, at least.”

Erica swallowed hard and nodded again, looking at her lap. “About that,” she said. “Sorry. It wasn't about you.”

“Then what was it about?”

She shrugged, and pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

“Just a little punishment,” she said. “I wanted to stop him from having one thing he really wanted. I didn't have a hope of convincing your friend Mark to turn down three continents, but I could undermine something else a little more fragile.”

Eduardo ducked his head between his knees and gasped raggedly for a few seconds before he was composed enough to ask her, “What the hell did he ever do to you?”

Erica twisted her lips, “Nothing, really. He just underestimated me. Thought I was a pawn.”

Eduardo scrabbled against the desk behind him, managing to stand up jerkily. “I'm, I'm just gonna go.”

“Wait a sec,” Erica said, barring his path with her shins. There were a couple of buzzed interns across the room who could probably see straight up her skirt from this position. Fuck em, her panties were boring today. They could deal.

“He's like this all the time,” Erica said to Eduardo. “He loves everyone, but he'll fly off to shake some other kid's hand in a flash when the chance comes up. It's not that he doesn't like you anymore. It's just that he can't love you the most.”

“You must really hate him, Erica.” Eduardo said, pulling his jacket sleeves on jerkily.

Erica smiled. “Nah. I can't give him up either. When he's there, he's my best friend. When he's gone though, I have to forget about him. That's what you need to do, Eduardo.”

“I can't - live like that,” Eduardo said, jagged and short, like he was having to pry the words out of his chest.

“Good for you,” Erica said. She meant it. “If you stay, you'll turn into me, you know.”

Eduardo's brow wrinkled. “You love him?”

Erica shrugged her shoulders. “Not the same way, but yeah.”

He nodded jerkily.

“If you really love him, it's going to kill you, Eduardo. You're going to go cold, and jealous, and cruel, just like us,” she told him.

“Don't you think he can change?” Eduardo said, voice breaking in the middle.

Erica smiled, amusement stretching her lips enough to flash her teeth. “You can't change people with love, Eduardo.”

“Alright,” Eduardo said to himself quietly. “Thank you,” he said to Erica. “Have a nice night.”

She nodded and waved him out. “You too, Wardo.”

Christy came over almost immediately, toting a bottle of tequila, “What was that about?” she said, raising her eyebrows dramatically.

“Lover's spat,” Erica said. “You know how it is when you mix business and pleasure.”

“Um, yeah, it's fucking hot.” Christy said. “Speaking of, it's about time for body shots. Keen?”

“Salt?” Erica asked.

“I made that Moskovitz kid cut the lime wedges,” Christy said, nodding.

“Alright,” Erica said.

“Great.” Christy said, dragging Erica up off the floor. “Now, I just need you to take your top off, I have this feeling that your rack is crazy.”

“I don't like to boast, but...” Erica said, unbuttoning as they walked.

-

The hangover was nasty.

Erica woke up reluctantly, groggy, and with the most disgusting smell in her face.  It was disheartening to realise it was the stench of her own tequila breath, but irritating enough to make her want to sit up and look for her purse.

Christy and a chick Erica thought might be named Amy were sacked out next to her, nestled back to back under the sheet like a couple of puppies. Christy looked to be almost if not entirely naked, which was pretty much par for the course, but Amy was definitely still in her uncomfortable looking dress shirt. All signs pointed to the conclusion that they'd all gone pretty nuts the night before.

The window was letting a fucking blinding amount of sunlight in, and that was about as much as Erica could cope with on a pain level. Not good. She stepped on Alice's thigh when she slid off the mattress.

“Sorry,” she muttered, patting her carefully with the other foot.

Alice grunted, and rolled tighter into the duvet she'd clearly pilfered from their bed.

“You little thief,” she said to her quietly, dragging the curtains closed.

The whir of the tracks stirred Amy out of sleep. She wriggled and stretched, lifting her head to peer sleepily at Erica. “You have really nice boobs, you know,” she yawned.

“Good morning to you, too,” Erica replied. “Have you seen my bag?”

Amy dropped back and snuggled against Christy. “You gave it to that blond guy, said he had an honest face.”

“I do not remember that.” Erica groaned. “Do you have gum?”

“Mm.” Amy said, flapping her hand.

Erica unearthed a purse from the detritus of underwear around Alice's feet, prodding her until she found somebody's sweatpants too. She couldn't see her panties anywhere, let alone her bra. Odds were that most of her clothes were under or in the bed at this point. Her bra was probably safely folded on a desk at Facebook, if her gut instinct was right.

Amy's purse had mints, and gum, and a box of raisins, which she shamelessly purloined. She put a combination in her mouth, pulled on the sweats, and ventured out into the body of the house.

There was a kid playing Final Fantasy VII on the couch.  

“Um!” he said, almost dropping his controller. He stared intently at the television. “I'm sorry?”

Erica sighed and wrapped an arm around her tits. “Chill. I'm looking for a blond guy? Apparently I gave him my bag.”

“Um,” the kid said again, stabbing at the MODE button to pause. “Chris?” he called out, voice shaking.

A blond guy came through the opposite doorway. He had sleep in his eyes and his cheek pressed against a mug. “What is it now?” he said. “I told you not to get attached to Aerith, man.”

“Oh geeze,” he said, spotting Erica. “They’re just boobs, Eric, really. You know, parts of the human body?”

Erica cracked a smile at that. “Are you 'that blond guy'?” she asked.

“The one and only,” he said. “It's Chris, for future coat-checking reference.”

“Erica,” she said, as Chris ducked back into his room to retrieve her bag.

“Yeah, I know. Well met,” he said. “Don't put anyone's eye out. And look out, Mark's around.”

“Ugh,” Erica said, accepting a sip out of the mug. “Thanks. Bathroom?”

Chris pointed.

Erica ducked in and took advantage of the facilities with relief. She considered the shower stall but decided that she could just as easily pick up some Hep C back at BU.

She put the lid down on the toilet instead and dialed Sean. Waking people up at the crack of dawn was the best way to stay on someone's mind. His phone rang about ten times before it picked up.

“Bom dia- I mean, hello?”

Huh.

“Good morning, Eduardo. Could you pass the phone to Sean?” she said kindly.

“Oh- sure.” Eduardo stuttered. “Here he is.”

“Yo?”

“It's Erica. When did you get in?”

“About three. You weren't picking up, so I called Wardo, and he let me stay in his suite. It's cool.”

“He's a good guy,” Erica said. “We talked last night. You should keep it up with him.”

“How is it that you always know exactly what I want to hear.” Sean said, laughing. Erica could hear the smile in his voice.

After hanging up she paused for a second to make faces at herself in the mirror and wipe errant eyeliner off of her eye bags before opening the bathroom door. As luck would have it, Mark was waiting outside, arms crossed over his stained t-shirt.

“People were saying you were a C cup,” he said, eyeing her chest, “but I would say B, personally.”

Erica breathed in deeply and thought about Sean, and Christy, and herself, and connections. It's who you know, she thought. Boys with broken fingers can't make money.

“Well, that depends on the brand,” Erica said, “and what would you know about boobs, shit for brains?”

Mark opened his mouth, and then fell back, letting her pass in silence.

She got to the door to the girls' room, and then turned back thoughtfully. “Zuckerberg,” she said. “Any idea what your friend Eduardo is doing today?”

Mark shrugged sullenly. “He's busy today. That's why he couldn't party last night.”

“He had to be fresh and well rested, right?” Erica said. “He's so dedicated. Always working on your company.”

“Yeah.”

“He's always going the extra mile,” she said. “You know, I just called and woke up Sean - and I could swear it was Eduardo who picked up for him. Isn't it funny where people turn up?”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stick in Your Throat - The Social Network Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/759802) by [Laenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laenix/pseuds/Laenix)




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